On killing a tree :(

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hongey mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet glowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A best of robin in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately loves with rain.

Poems are made by tools like me,
But only God can make a tree :)

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